Is it a reaction to the Deism of the eighteenth century? Or is it intended to counter cold, formalistic, ritualistic religion? Maybe it’s an ego thing. Whatever the cause, some are awfully quick today to assign God as the source of various occurrences in an effort to make Him more personal.
For example, some preachers, when asked why they are with their current congregation, will say, “The Lord sent me here.” Well, of course, that’s possible, but how does he know that beyond a reasonable doubt? If, after a year, the church tells him to leave, then what will he say: “The Lord sent me here, but the brethren fired me”? Yet even that scenario is possible, is it not?
The point of contention is, “How are brethren so certain so quickly that things which have happened are the Lord’s doing?” Do they have a hotline to heaven that furnishes them with special insight that the rest of us lack? How can they interpret events with such certainty and infallibility?
Some have allowed themselves to be driven to almost Pentecostal extremes. Every little thing that happens suddenly takes on theological significance. There was a reason for it. Such thinking can take on New Age proportions: “There are no such things as accidents.” Instead of fate, however, it is God personally intervening in my life every day to help me. There is a reason why everything happens, and I can figure it all out.
“IT’S A SIGN”
A few weeks ago the movie Sleepless in Seattle was broadcast on television in an edited version. One of the lines frequently repeated, whenever something of significance occurred, was: “It’s a sign.” It was never made clear whether the “sign” was attributed to some kind of cosmic and impersonal force or to God. Some in the church would undoubtedly subscribe to the latter.
Yet there are circumstances which occur all the time that have no special meaning. Two weeks ago, for example, I parked behind a car at a local barbecue place. Its color was the same as the one Barb drives. In fact, it was the same basic car with only the names Omni and Horizon to distinguish them. So what? Stranger still was the car’s license plate: SRW 89J. Our look-alike is SRW 87J. Inside the restaurant, I asked the only other customer if that was her car. “Yes,” she replied, “did you hit it?” (That question is indicative of Texas driving patterns.)
Then I told her about the coincidence. To round out the irony, she told me her car was an ’87. “That’s interesting,” I told her. “You have an ’87 with an 89 on your license plate, and we have an ’89 with an 87 on ours.” Surely this must have been a great sign. Maybe I should have said, “With all of these coincidences, the Lord is surely trying to tell us something; let’s study the Bible together.” She could only think I was a little nuts and thereafter eat lunch elsewhere.
HAVE WE NO CHOICES?
God does work providentially (Rom. 8:28); no one disputes that fact. But is God so intimately involved with each of His children that several things are happening every day in a way they can easily discern?
If God’s actions are so easily recognized, can it rightly be called providence? Or do we simply have a miraculous ability of some sort to unequivocally know we have seen it in operation and can confidently declare so to others?
This way of thinking presupposes at least two ideas: 1) that God desires to control every aspect of our lives; and 2) that we can easily recognize Him working in our lives. The first of these is Calvinistic, and the second one is egotistic.
In the tiny book of Philemon Paul makes a large point. He is writing on behalf of Onesimus, a slave who had run away from Philemon. Somehow, this man came in contact with Paul while the apostle was imprisoned in Rome. Paul taught him the gospel, which he obeyed. Now he was a Christian. Pretty providential, wasn’t it?
Paul was a man of faith; no one could ever seriously question that. He worked miracles (Acts 19:11-12). He both spoke and wrote by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit (1 Cor. 14:37, 1 Thess. 2:13, 2 Thess. 2:15, etc.). Yet notice that Paul does not tell Philemon: “Figure it out, brother. What else can Onesimus’ coming to Rome be except God’s providence?”
Instead he wrote: “For perhaps (italics supplied, gws) he departed for a while for this purpose, that you might receive him forever, no longer as a slave but more than a slave, as a beloved brother…” (15-16). Commenting on the verse, M.R. Vincent quotes Maclaren as saying:
We are not to be too sure what God means by such and such a thing, as some of us are wont to be, as if we had been sworn of God’s privy-council. . . Let us not be in too great a hurry to make sure that we have the key of the cabinet where God keeps his purposes, but content ourselves with ‘perhaps’ when we are interpreting the often questionable ways of His providence, each of which has many meanings and many ends (Word Studies in the New Testament 2:922).
Likewise, Mordecai, did not tell Esther, “Woman, can’t you see the providence involved in this situation? God put you here just to save the Jews.” Instead, he stated plainly that God would find a way to save His people; then he asked: “Yet who knows whether you have come to the kingdom for such a time as this?” (Esther 4:14).
WHAT ABOUT THE DEVIL?
Another flaw in the philosophy of those who seem determined to make God more personal is that they frequently fail to take into account the activity of the devil, who seeks to destroy all of us spiritually. It may be that some of the things God is credited with should actually be charged to Satan.
Let’s consider a hypothetical case in which a person begins to drive to the building where the saints meet for worship. Just before he is ready to turn on the main road, he sees that a tree has fallen down, blocking his way. Well, there is another way, but as he nears that exit, he sees that there has been an accident which will take a while to clear out.
What should he do? Clearly, the Lord is providentially hindering him from attending worship that day. He may as well return home and just study the Bible on his own. But once again, is the assumption made correct? How does he know that the devil is not trying to keep him away? On what basis does a Christian conclude that the Lord didn’t want him to meet with other brethren, when it is usually Satan that tries to keep us from good things?
And what if, instead of just supposing this is “any” church member, it is pointed out that this is an elder who was going to preside over the Lord’s Table that morning? Or the one who was supposed to preach? Or even a visiting evangelist who was to begin a gospel meeting that morning? Are we still satisfied with the “it-was-meant-to-be” posture? Let us be quick to refrain from making judgments about why certain things happen the way they do.
Can the propensity to attribute everything that happens to God be the result of a weak faith? Is it possible that some need to feel that God is with them every minute, causing astounding things to happen to them, in order to be strong spiritually? Does this daily demonstration of God’s existence help fortify one’s trust and conviction? If so, the person will shortly be disappointed. After all, when things begin to go against him, what else can he conclude but that God no longer cares for him.
Are we saying that God does not work providentially? No, He certainly does. Are we saying that we can not ever tell it? No, sometimes we can. But it is seldom immediately obvious. We know that God loves us and that He answers our prayers, but our finite limitations should serve to keep us from being dogmatic. A little time is needed to think and reflect upon certain things. We can easily ascertain why some things happen and may never know why others did. But even if we make the wrong choices, God can bring about good results from it–if we maintain our faith.